Free Falling
by splashdown
Summary: Ginny feels broken and scared as she reflects on the past and the present. Character death, angst, emofest. HarryGinny oneshot.


I haven't written anything in a long time, but in the past two weeks, I went through a phase where I wrote something new everyday. Most of it was deleted, but a few things were kept. They're really angsty and may not make a bunch of sense, but oh well. Critiques are always appreciated, so please, don't hesitate.

**Free Falling **

_"We're all standing on the edge of a cliff, all the time, everyday, a cliff we're all going over. Our choice isn't about that. Our choice is about whether we want to go kicking and screaming or whether we might want to open our eyes and our hearts to what happens once we start to fall."_ -Taken

--

It is a surreal feeling, Ginny thinks, to be standing near the edge of a cliff, overlooking villages and towns and fields. It is as though she is about to fall over onto the edge of nothing, like if she took one step forward, she would decend into nothingness and cease to exist.

She thinks about that a lot. What it would be like to take that step forward, to plunge into the darkness and see if she can fight her way back out again. She wants to believe she can, but she knows it'll never come down to that. It'll never come down to that because she can't even get up enough courage to step to the edge without clutching her wand so tightly in her hand that her fist begins to turn purple with exertion.

But still, she comes here a lot. It is quiet here, serene. Nobody asks her questions, nobody gets too close, nobody leaves. Here, there is nothing but the earth on which she stands and the air in which she breathes. There is nothing between the ground below and the heavens above. There is nobody to poke and probe and prod, nobody to make her feel even more alone than she already does.

It has been four months since Harry defeated Voldemort. Four months since the end of the war. Four months since the beginning of peace.

Four months since she left Hogwarts for good. Four months since Bill died. Four months since Harry went away.

Everything is crap, she thinks as she kicks a stone off the edge. She pauses and listens with all her might to hear the _plomp_ as it hits the ground, but she can't. The ground is too far away, too far below. Or maybe it doesn't exist at all.

Ginny sighs, pulls her jacket tighter around her shoulders, and heads back into the night, for home.

- - - - - - - - -

Whenever people ask her where she goes at night, she simply replies, "Out." She already has next-to-no privacy back at the Burrow, and with everything already so complicated and cramped, she needs this open space. She needs everything, she needs the whole world.

Unfortunately the whole world has a way of letting her down by letting go of the most important people in her life. Hogwarts she can live without, but her family, her Harry, she most certainly cannot.

Ginny remembers everything from that day, the day that Harry decided to leave. She remembers exactly what she was doing, exactly what she was wearing and what he was wearing. She remembers exactly how the weather was and where she was standing and what he said.

But then, she remembers every word he says, for when Harry speaks, it's as though he's speaking only to her, like every word that falls from his lips is meant especially for her. When Harry speaks, Ginny feels as though they are the only two people in the world.

She remembers that it was the day following Bill's funeral. The sun was shining and there was a tiny breeze. The day was perfect, and Ginny hated that it was perfect. She was inconsolable and she wanted it to rain, to storm wildly. She wanted trees to fall over, for the nearby fields to burn in flames, for the stream to dry up. She wanted destruction, she wanted havoc. She wanted something other than sunshine and daisies and clear blue skies for miles.

Ginny stood leaning against the tree, away from everyone else. Away from Ron and Hermione, who had finally acknowledged their feelings and were so deeply in love that it made Ginny's heart ache even to look at them. Away from Fred and George, who were still so _Fred and Geroge_ that Ginny wanted to shout at them, rip them to shreds, for not being different, not seeming more affected. Away from Percy, who had finally reconciled with the family, and Charlie and their stupid game of Wizard's Chess. Away from her mother and father and Fleur, who were doting over the new baby, Bill's baby, Bill and Fleur's baby. Bill's baby who he would never get to see grow up. Bill's baby who would never know his father.

Bill's baby who he had loved so much and had been so, so proud of.

It wasn't fair, Bill's death. It just wasn't fair. He had been hurt before; he shouldn't have even been out fighting. He should have been at home, being watched over and resting with his newborn son. He should be there, right then, with his family and his friends and his son and the too-blue sky and the too-bright sun.

Ginny wanted to scream. She wanted to scream so loud that her vocal chords would rip and her throat would explode. She couldn't bear to watch her family anymore, couldn't bear to see them going on with their lives as if nothing had happened, as if Bill was only inside and would be out to join them in a moment. She pushed herself away from the tree and, furiously wiping away the tears from her eyes, stalked inside the house.

And straight into Harry.

She hadn't spoken a word to Harry in days, even though he had been staying at the Burrow. She had been trying to avoid him, avoid any situation that would include her having to be around him. She had even skipped meals. She just couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see his comforting eyes, couldn't bear to be overwhelmed by the pain that they would bring. She loved Harry - _oh_, how she loved Harry - but love wasn't something she wanted to feel. She wanted to continue being angry, continue feeling this hatred in her heart. She didn't want Bill to think everyone had moved on, had forgotten his existence, had forgotten how much he was loved. She thought he deserved at least that much.

But now she was standing in front of Harry, and there was nowhere to hide.

"Er. Hi, Ginny," he stammered, smashing his hands inside his pockets.

She had to think fast. She did not want to stand there with him, hear his words, be made to feel as if they were alone in the world. She had to think fast.

"Oh. Hello, Harry. I was just, just going to the loo," she said quickly. As she stepped to the side and began to walk past him, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Right, well, I was just wondering. Can I, can I have a word? It won't take er, _long_, you know," he stuttered, pointing his head in the direction of the toilet.

Ginny nodded, not knowing how to get out of the situation, and followed Harry to the sofa.

"I just wanted you to know - to be the first to know, actually - that I'm leaving. Going away. I can't _be here_ right now, I can't do it. I need to go and I need to think and I need to figure out what I'm supposed to do next. To do now, now that, er, _now_."

Ginny watched as Harry ran a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat. He was leaving? He was going away? She didn't know what to think, how to feel, what to say. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Finally, after a moment of silence, she spoke. "If you're asking for my permission, Harry, you don't have to. I am certainly not your keeper."

Harry blinked. Ginny knew she shouldn't be talking to him like this, had to right to say these things, but she couldn't help it. The words just kept falling from her mouth, so tired of being kept inside, hidden in her brain.

"Well, alright then. Leave. Go on, go. That does seem to be the concensus around here, doesn't it, leaving?"

She didn't wait for him to reply, but instead, simply stood up, marched back to the door, and raced into the woods, leaving everything she had left in the world in her trail.

That was when she found the edge of the world, the edge of existence as she knew it. That was what sparked her early-summer affair with secrecy. It was almost as if she had another diary, one that didn't write back and drain her of her might. On the contrary, her new diary made her feel powerful, as if she was in control of her fate, whether she lived or died.

When she returned to the Burrow that evening, Harry had already gone.

- - - - - - - - -

The cool evenings are her favorites. The nights when the moon is full and the stars are blazing and the sky is clear and the wind is blowing. She feels free, almost infinite, as her hair waves in the breeze and her cheeks turn pink. She wishes to feel invincible, but she knows there is no such thing. If there is one thing she has learned in her life, it is that.

Tonight Ginny has brought her sneakoscope, the one she bought in Egypt when her family went to visit Bill during the summer holidays before her second year at Hogwarts. The sneakoscope is both heavier and bigger than the rock, and it was the biggest thing she found laying around her untidied bedroom at the Burrow. She doesn't need it anymore, doesn't want to be reminded of what once was. And because of this, she is going to throw it over the edge and listen for the sounds as it hits the ground far below.

She needs to hear this sound, hear the sneakoscope break as it pummels the earth. She needs to be reassured that there is a ground below, that even though she cannot see it, it still exists. She needs to feel that she is real in the only possible way she knows how. She needs that solidity, that validity.

Ginny closes her eyes, clutches her wand, and steps a foot from the edge of the cliff. The sneakoscope feels weird in her pocket, smashed in her palm. She remembers its unreliability and almost grins at the confusion and laughter it had once caused. But life was different then; _she_ was different then. She pulls it out of her pocket, takes a deep breath, and with her eyes still tightly shut, flings it into the night sky as hard as she can.

"I need your help, Bill. If you can hear me, if you can see me, please let me know. Please give me a sign, give me a sound, give me _something_," Ginny says almost silently as the wind whips around her. All at once, the breeze dies down and all is still. All at once, she hears a tiny crash, hundreds of feet below, as the sneakoscope smashes into the ground.

Smiling to herself as tears slowly fill her eyes, Ginny raises her face toward the heavens above as the wind picks back up. With her head still titled upward, she retreats a few more steps, away from the edge and the darkness. A rustling in the trees behind her wakes her from her calm and silent reverie. Still clutching her wand, she turns around, afraid of the fight and afraid of the fall. When she sees who is standing in front of her, her arm drops limply to her side and her mouth drops open.

It's Harry.

His eyes are still strikingly green, and his hair is still so abnormally messy. His glasses are still made of wire and they still sit slightly crooked across the bridge of his nose. He is still wearing the same trainers he wore four months ago and even before that. He is still, essentially, the same Harry that she had once known and loved - the same Harry she still knows and loves - but he is so different. He looks taller, older. His jaw is more defined and there is a small hint of stubble. His face looks less pale, more grown-up. His posture looks less relaxed as he stands there, hands in his pockets, as though he doesn't have to constantly worry about some evil villain lurking behind him, waiting to pounce.

She wonders if Harry is thinking these same thoughts about her, and she is suddenly acutely aware of her mouth hanging ajar and the strands of hair that have attached themselves to her bottom lip through the wind. She quickly shuts it and turns her gaze away, feeling too transparent and naked by his unwavering gaze.

But the silence is too much. The hush is fine when she's alone, but when someone else is taking up the space, she feels confined and unable to breathe and trapped. "How did you, what are you doing here?" she asks him, voice barely above a whisper.

"I came to find you. Your mum said you'd been leaving every night, saying you're just going for a bit of a walk. So for the past hour I've been going for a bit of a walk myself, trying to find you."

"Well, you've found me. And now you can leave," she says louder, the harshness in her voice apparent.

Harry's face falls, crumples in the night. Even though her face is turned in another direction, she can still see it.

"But I'm home, Ginny. I'm back."

"Yes, I've noticed. Thank you for the postcards, Harry. They were ever so thoughtful."

"I didn't sen-- Oh. Right. I needed that time for myself, Ginny, and if you're going to be this selfish about it, then maybe I will leave."

"It's so good to know that nothing's changed." Ginny turns back toward the edge of the cliff and takes a few steps closer. She feels rather than hears Harry come closer; the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she silently curses them for being so affected by his presence.

"You're not.. going to jump, are you?" he asks her, cautiously, as he slowly walks to her side.

"Of course not, Harry," Ginny replies, exasperated. "I won't go any farther than this spot right here."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry looking from the sky to the dark expanse beyond the cliff. She sees him taking in the stars and the distant lights of the villages below.

He clears his throat. "What does it feel like?" he asks her.

"What does _what_ feel like?"

"Standing at the edge. Looking down into nothing. Feeling as though you could fall at any moment."

Ginny is silent, speechless. Harry has flown to the point of recklessness on his Firebolt, he has fought countless enemies to the death, he has defeated the darkest wizard to ever walk the earth. And he is asking her what it feels like to stand at the edge of a cliff?

"Well," she pauses. "I, I don't know. I won't go any farther than this spot right here."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"Huh," Harry muses. Suddenly he grabs her hand. "Come on." He begins to pull her closer to the edge.

"Harry, wait!" Ginny shouts at him. "I, why are you here?" She cocks her head to the side and stares at him.

"Why do you ask when you already know the answer?"

"Why would I ask if I already knew the answer?"

Harry shifts his gaze to the ground and back to her face. He steps closer and, very tenderly, pulls away the strands of hair still stuck to her lip and pushes them behind her ear. Softly, he says, "I missed you, Ginny. You must've known that."

Ginny closes her eyes and takes a step backward, shaking her head from side to side. "No," she utters angrily. "No! If you missed me that much, why did you have to go? Why did you have to go and leave?" Tears are streaming down her face, but she makes no move to wipe them away. She has to say this, she has to continue, she has to get this out of her, this poison, this anger, this hate. "Why did you leave, Harry? Why did you leave when we needed you here, when _I_ needed you here? Everything was falling apart and I needed you and you _left_! You left me here alone, all alone!"

Harry steps forward and grabs hold of her shoulders, pulling her into his arms. She pounds her fists against his chest, angry at him for leaving. Angry at everyone for ever leaving. Angry at herself for being so stupid, so afraid. Angry at herself for feeling this way.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he whispers into her hair as the sobs overpower her. "I'm so sorry. I loved Bill, too. We all loved Bill, Ginny. But he fought hard, he fought so hard. He saved me, Ginny. He saved me so I could be with you."

Still sobbing, she replies, "But then why did you go? Why did you leave me?"

Harry runs his hand down Ginny's hair, over and over, as he holds her. "I felt guilty. I felt guilty that he did what he did. It should've been me, not him. That curse was meant for me. I had to get away, I had to let go. But I'm here now. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

They stand together, rocking in the wind, for a few minutes more. Finally, Ginny pulls away, sniffing, and pushes her hair behind her ears. She looks past Harry and out toward the darkness again. Quietly, she begins to speak. "I've been so bitter, Harry. So angry. My heart is full of hate and I can't stop it from beating this poison through my veins. I have stopped talking to my family; I'm sure my mum is in a right state because of it. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid to talk to any of them, to let it be known that I care, because what if something happens to them? I don't think I could bear it." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "When did everything get like this? Everything has fallen apart and I can't seem to pick up the pieces. How did I become so afraid? I never used to be afraid of anything. And now look at me. I can't even manage to walk past a certain point up here. All I want to feel is alive and real and I can't even allow myself that much." She laughs bitterly and looks at Harry. "I'm a mess, Harry."

He is silent as he stares at her. At last, he says to her, "Then let's stand at the edge. Come on." He grabs her hand and like before, begins to pull her toward the edge.

"But, but what if we fall?" she stammers.

"Then we'll fall together."


End file.
